Staying
by Alicia5264
Summary: Funny how the world flips things around sometimes. For him to stay with them, he had to leave everything else behind. To leave her behind.


**Title: **Staying

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: ** Peter, Neal, El, Kate

**Spoilers:** All of seasons 1 and 2

**Summary:** "Funny how the world flips things around sometimes. For him to stay with them, he had to leave everything else behind. To leave _her _behind." For this prompt at **whitecollarhc** for the Head Injury Jamboree.

**Warnings/Triggers:** Cannon Death, Depression & general sickness, No Beta!

**Word Count: **2,546

**A/N:** Probably not as dialogue rich as the prompter wanted, but here it is. Writing the first one was such a rush I thought I'd try again! This one was harder to write though and I don't feel as satisfied with it. Hummmm...Let me know what you think!

**Staying**

The first time he saw her, was out of the corner of his eye. It looked like her, but he couldn't trust his peripheral vision right then. The blurred view and bumpy ride of the ambulance he was riding in was disorienting and terrifying and really, it could have been his sick, drug addled, mind playing tricks on him. So he let it go. He ignored when he saw her tuck her hair over her left ear, and when she crossed her left leg over her right like she always use to do when she was impatient. He knew what she wanted. Well, would have wanted, if she was really there, that is. But if it had been her, instead of a bad combination of drugs and old emotions, he knew what she was waiting for. But he wouldn't meet her eyes. Because he didn't think he could bare it when he blinked and she was gone again.

The second time he saw her, she was directly in front of him as he was coming off the anesthesia. The doctor was talking in muted tones about kidney failure and surgical complications, but he wasn't really paying attention. There was no mistaking her now. She had on that dark blue dress. The one from the bench in the park that day.

Life has its peaks. Oh it has its pit falls as well, but there are those rare, wonderful moments where it feels like things couldn't be any better than they are right then, and you really couldn't think of a way to be happier. That moment, on the bench, had been a peak for them. He remembered everything about that date in the park. All the plans he had made. How hopeful they had been. So when he saw her now, he thought maybe she would always have on that dress.

He wondered if he would always be stuck on that bench. Making plans for a happy ever-after that he would never have.

OooOooO

She was there again, setting next to him, when he finally woke up enough to be aware of his surroundings. It had been 5 days since they had brought him in from the botched operation he'd been running with the FBI. They had been going after a dirty businessman named Philips. Neal had worked his way up the social ladder in the company quickly and things had been going smoothly. Obviously, not as smoothly as they had all thought though. After late night drinks with the boss, Neal had gone home alone feeling woozy and had woken up in the ambulance with 2 frantic paramedics, a teary eyed Peter, which was truly terrifying… and _her_.

And here she was still, 5 days and two damaged kidneys later.

He mostly tried to ignore her. Because of course, she wasn't really there, and because he was trying to focus on what Peter and the doctor were telling him. He was going to be ok. They had saved his kidneys, but he would need to take it easy for a few weeks. He would be able to go home in a day or two, but would need a lot of help getting around and cleaning the incision sites. This is when Peter butted in to say that El had insisted this happen at their place where they could be sure he wasn't dying in his sleep... again. He hadn't put up much of a fight, because if _she _was still here, he probably shouldn't be left alone just yet.

Over the next few days in the hospital, she was the only constant thing. A dozen different doctors and nurses came and went. Many visitors from the White Collar unit stopped by. The usually, Jones, Diana and even Hughes stopped, in to check on him and leave cards and ridiculous stuffed animals with tiny anklets. He slept a lot those first days after waking up, and it seemed like there was someone different there every time he opened his eyes. Mostly it was Peter, and often El as well. They never seemed to like leaving his room without a Burke presence. But always, _she_ was there.

Even in the dark of the night, when the only light was from the beeping machines, he could just make out the gentile curve of her check bone. The sparkle in her eye when she smiled at him. He couldn't help but look now. He was having more and more trouble dismissing her as an illusion. And this worried him.

When he rode home from the hospital in the back of the Burkes Taraus with her right next to him, smiling in the blue dress, he decided to just accept that she was there. Real or figment of his screwed up imagination, she was there, and apparently not going anywhere. She never said a word. She was just there. And sometimes, that's all you need - someone to be there.

After a week of this, coupled with El's fierce mothering and Peters orders to take it easy, he had pretty much figured out how to exist having part of his mind with the living and another part with the dead. When El sat next to him on the couch while dinner simmered on the stove, he kept up polite conversation and smiled and laughed when appropriate. He played his part well when Peter, who had stressed the 'no work for Neal' policy, couldn't help but slip him a look at their current case file for some leads. He rubbed Satchmo and planned hypothetical heists with Mozzie and listened to stories about the good old days with June. All the while, _she_ sat by, smiling quietly.

After 4 weeks of her constant company, he grew tired of her silence. He wondered what would happen if he talked to her. Would his words pierce the illusion? Would she splinter into a thousand pieces and float away? Or maybe just fade out like a dream? When he finally worked up the nerve to speak to her, to just say a simple, inadequate 'hello,' something worse happened. She stayed.

She stayed when the stitches came out. She stayed when he went home to Junes, against the Burkes instance that he not. She stayed when he went back to the office. She stayed when he went back undercover for the first time. She stayed when he completely messed up the bust. She stayed when Peter made him go to that stupid therapist. She stayed through the sleeping pills and the bottles of wine and the nightmares. Through everything, she stayed.

And some time during that staying, Neal started talking. He told her all the things he meant to say, and all the things he never would have said. He told her how much he loved her and how much he hated her. He ordered he to go away and then begged her not to leave him again.

He told her about the weather, about the latest case that had them puzzled, about his fears for the future. He made fun of the therapist with her, complained about the chafing anklet with her, cried about his past with her. And even after his physical wounds had healed, she still stayed.

At this point, he was sure she wasn't really there. Because the real _her_ hadn't stayed with him before. No one had ever really stayed.

He was telling her this latest revelation when he felt the air shift behind him. It was a workday, but he had made excuses to Peter about headaches and sore muscles. He'd been doing that a lot lately. Making excuses to stay in. Turning down dinner invitations and not answering when his friends called or knocked on his door. Peter, who still hadn't forgiven himself over his last sickness, didn't even question him, but told him to stay at home and get some rest. He hadn't meant to lie to Peter, but he'd been making a lot of excuses, to the Burks in particular.

To stay closed off from others and spend his days talking to her. He sacrificed lunch with Peter and invitations to try Elizabeth's new deserts. He'd told Mozzie and June he was putting in extra time at work, so they wouldn't be bother him during the day. He just wanted to stay with _her._ Seeing the dark hair in his peripheral vision as he gazed out the balcony windows, he thought nothing of it. His constant companion was there, as always. Still in that blue dress.

So he continued talking, not bothering to turn to face her. He just went on, sipping his third full glass of wine that morning and thinking out loud about how no one ever stayed. His dad had left because of his own bad choices. Technically he had left his mom, but it was because of her lies. Ellen had left because of corruption. June left for vacations with her real family. Sara had left because he was too much trouble. Mozzie had even left when he wasn't willing to be enough trouble. He told her all this morosely and not expecting any response, he turned to refill his now empty glass fully expecting to walk through her, as he had done many times before, because she hadn't really stayed either. At least, not physically. So when his shoulder made contact with real flesh and bone, he was startled so badly, he dropped the empty wine glass and took several steps away.

She still didn't speak, but she was no longer smiling. She was crying. He saw a fat tear trail its way down her cheek and stepped foreword to catch it before it dropped onto that blue. As he looked down at the dress, he noticed other subtle differences. The texture of the fabric was different. It was more coarse, more worn somehow. He traveled farther up and saw the gold chain and heart pendant around her neck. Much too simple for _her_ tastes, but some how delicate and perfect and given with love. And then his eyes rose to a familiar curved face with soft lips and blue eyes.

But it wasn't _her_ he was touching. And his heart broke a little more then. Embarrassed at his mistake, he went to drop his hand and turn away, but El caught his hand in hers and wouldn't let him hide anymore.

"It's you." He said, a flurry of emotions running through his body.

"Who am I Neal? Who did you see?" Elizabeth spoke softly and sadly.

"Your Elizabeth, of course," he let out immediately. But even he didn't buy that.

"No," she said, "I want the truth, Neal." She took both of his hands in hers now.

"I want to know who you were talking to just now. Who you've been hiding away with for the past month. Because you weren't with me just now. You haven't been with us since you woke up in the hospital."

Neal looked down. Caught, he wanted nothing more than to run. That's what he did. Run from hard situations. But the concern he'd seen in Elizabeth's eyes, and the kindness he'd felt in her words and her hands as she gently squeezed his, wouldn't let him go.

"Kate," he said, voice broken and barely audible. "It's always Kate I see."

And finally his tears broke through as well. Trailing down from both eyes. Dripping onto Elizabeths' blue dress as she pulled him in closer for a fierce hug. He was glad for it though, because she may have been the only thing holding him together then.

He stood there limply, with silent tears and she too was quiet as she ran her hands over his back trying to provide what comfort she could. After a few minutes, she was the one to pull back and break the silence.

"It's not true you know," she said, her voice clear and sure.

"I know," Neal replied, shaking his head, "I know she's not really here."

"No, she's not here, but that's not what I meant Neal," Elizabeth looked more fierce than ever as she spoke now.

"I meant it's not true, what you were saying about everyone leaving. Everyone hasn't left you Neal. Your mom, your dad, Kate, they're not here, but me and Peter, we are here. We've been here for a long time now, waiting for you to see us. And we promise you, we are staying. We are not leaving you Neal."

She was right, Neal thought. Of course she was right. She was Elizabeth. And she was there. And then as things came into focus, he noticed another hand come up to squeeze firmly at his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed Peter until that moment.

"But that means you can't leave us either," Peter spoke. "No hiding away and keeping these things to yourself. No more over drinking, or staying up all night or playing hooky from our lives. You are apart of a family, and I don't just mean at the FBI, Neal. You're our family. And we are all staying together."

Peter wiped at his eyes and went on.

"I know you think you need to do this on your own. Or talk to Kate, or whoever you've been seeing this past month. But if you keep living in the past and can't let go of that, then you're never going to survive the present. It's your choice Neal."

He took his wife's hand and pulled her reluctantly, towards the door to the apartment.

"We are going out to eat lunch, and then we are going to drop by Dr. Whites office again. I think we could all use a little professional help with this. So are you going to stay here in this apartment, or are you staying with us? Because you can't have both."

They looked at him earnestly. And he knew what they wanted. But what did he want now? He turned back to look around his loft as he pondered his decision. Throughout his life, everyone else had left, but everyone else didn't matter anymore. They were here and they were real and they had promised to stay. So Neal decided to trust them. To stay with them, his family, who was really there.

Funny how the world flips things around sometimes. For him to stay with them, he had to leave everything else behind. To leave _her _behind. So he made his choice.

He told them to wait, while made himself presentable, throwing on slacks and a nice button up. Skipping the hat and jacket, he followed them to the door. As he turned back to pull it closed, be looked around the room he rented from June, and for the first time since he woke up in that hospital, he didn't see Kate. And he was okay with that.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find his happy ending without her now. So there was really only one thing left to say to her.

"Goodbye Kate." He said to the empty room, and closed the door to more than just his apartment.

"Read to go?" Peter called. He and Elizabeth stood smiling back at him from the stairs.

"Ready." He said. And he meant it.


End file.
